the Americanâs throat to choke off any outcry.
Habib rammed his weight into the man and forced him back against the wall. The manâs skull thudded hard against the wall, but it was unlikely he felt much of the impact because he was already dying. His eyes bulged and his mouth hung open.
Habibâs knife hand pressed against his chest. Every bit of the blade was buried inside the Americanâs body.
Habib twisted it and took savage pleasure in the action. Given better circumstances, he would have preferred to slit the Americanâs throat and let him bleed to death, or even more satisfying, drive the knife into his belly and rip it from side to side, creating a huge, gaping wound through which the manâs entrails would spill.
It would have been nice, seeing the American staring in horror at his own guts before he died.
But right now, killing this man quickly and silently was best, Habib knew.
Later, there would be plenty of time for him to luxuriate in watching Americans die.
Chapter 15
T obey hadnât planned to get distracted, but it was difficult not to once he was in the sprawling sporting goods store that was one of the mallâs anchors. There was just so much to look at.
The store carried every sort of camping equipment anybody could ever need, a vast array of fishing gear, bows and arrows, exercise apparatus, balls, bats, nets, shoes, boots, waders, camo clothing, trail mix, granola, water purifiers, and around the outside walls were dozens of glass-fronted cases filled with edged weapons and guns.
Bowie knives, skinning knives, axes, hatchets, and personal defense blades. Revolvers, semi-autos, shotguns, hunting rifles, AR-15s, replicas of famous guns from the Colt .45 Peacemaker to the Winchester â73 and the Sharps Big Fifty. Calibers from .22 on up. Shelves and shelves of boxed ammunition.
For a guy like Tobey, it was a little slice of heaven.
In the meantime, he knew he needed to get over to the jewelry store and buy Ashleyâs engagement ring, but he found himself looking at a display of beautifully made 1911s and had trouble tearing himself away.
The guy working behind this section of counter came over to him and said, âThe classic, iconic handgun of the twentieth century, just like the Peacemaker was the classic of the nineteenth.â
âYouâll get no argument about either of those things from me, amigo,â Tobey said.
âYou want a closer look at any of them?â
Tobey looked at the prices on the guns, sighed, and shook his head. He had enough money for that ring, but not if he spent it on some fancy 1911.
âNo, I guess not,â he said regretfully.
âCome on,â the salesman urged. âWhat are you gonna spend it on thatâs nicer than one of these babies?â
Tobey thought about Ashley. Guns were nice, but he was in love with her and always would be.
âIâve got something in mind,â he said. âSorry.â
âWell, come on back any time. Weâll be here.â
Tobey nodded and turned to head for the jewelry store, where he planned to spend the money heâd saved on the true love of his life.
* * *
Habib had stopped Dave Dixonâs heart so quickly that when he withdrew the blade from the wound, only a small amount of blood welled out to stain the Americanâs uniform shirt.
Carefully, Habib lowered the body to the floor, sliding it down the wall until Dixon was in a sitting position. Habib wiped the blood from the knife with the inside of the manâs jacket, then put the weapon away.
He had to move quickly now. One of the mallâs maintenance workers could come in and ruin everything, as the guard almost had.
Habib started moving the stacks of crates around. He needed to create an open space big enough that Dixonâs corpse would fit into it. Once he had done that, he could move the crates back in front of the dead man to hide the grim sight.
Urgency nibbled at the edges
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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Brenda Sinclair
Christopher George
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Celya Bowers
Jill Gregory
Aria Cunningham